Ulterior Designs (House of Evans Book 1) Read Free

if defeated.
    "No, I’m not. I'm a new graduate working pro bono for the experience." Well, that explained her enthusiasm. "But, I'm not supposed to mention that."
    He gave her a questioning shake of his head. "Why not?"
    She eyed the toes of her shoes. "I’ve been told that admitting inexperience can be a turn-off to clients. I really shouldn't have …"
    "I can assure you that I'm completely the opposite of turned off," he cut in. Her irises darted up to his, and when their eyes locked, there was a moment of white-hot awareness. "Look," he pressed on, "I don't mind. In my opinion, a fresh perspective can be a good thing." Her eyes remained guarded, so he reassured her, "I promise I won't mention your admission to Mr. Moriarty."
    A slow-to-surface smile appeared as did her confidence, and she spun around to walk into the large open space that encompassed the living and dining area.
    "This is going to look amazing when it's finished. Do you have specific ideas of what you want or is D-Mo," she quickly glanced back at him and corrected herself, " Mr. Moriarty going to be given creative license?"
    "Oh, I definitely know what I want."

Chapter Two: Curiosity & Arousal
    T he gears were turning in Ms. Stephens' head, and Logan was itching to peek inside her brain to see in his home what she saw.
    His furniture had been delivered the week before, and he was eager to see what would be done with all of it. His piano, a dozen pricey paintings, two Egyptian hand-woven tapestries, a seventeenth century antique cabinet and matching armoire, an old trunk that contained an assortment of tools strictly for pleasuring, and a two-hundred-year-old four-poster mahogany bed … each of the signature pieces that had been carefully chosen were more than mere physical possessions to him—they were a reflection of who he was. Like his house. To some, his tastes might seem eccentric; however, he preferred to think of his style as eclectic . He had been collecting the unique pieces for at least two years and was pleased that they were finally out of storage and now ready to be showcased, and more importantly, utilized.
    As if being a homeowner wasn’t enough of a responsibility, owning one with such a significant history added to that pressure. The situation was made even more stressful when faced with the decision of choosing a design team that would be a good fit for not only his home, but for him. They were being asked to decorate what he envisioned to be his masterpiece and eventual legacy, and that was no small task. For them to fail to give him what he saw in his mind's eye was not an option. It couldn't be. He had spent far too much of his time and energy to accept anything less than perfection.
    The weeks leading up to this meeting had passed slowly for him, and now with the appointment finally at hand, game day excitement and arousal were making it almost impossible for him to concentrate on anything of importance.
    When Ms. Stephens walked tentatively toward the kitchen, he offered her a short tour. He might as well. The man to whom he was paying the big bucks still hadn't made an appearance, and there was no sense in letting the little bit of time he was allowed to spend alone with the dark-haired beauty go to waste.
    Willingly, she accepted his offer, and he began telling her about the home's past.
    "This place was built at the turn of the century and has changed hands many times, as well as housed several different religions. For the most part, it was Evangelical." He guided her to the first row of windows and ran a fingertip along the edge of the frame that he had meticulously restored. "Growing up, I didn’t live far from this church. I remember hearing the loud music and worship sessions on Sundays for hours on end, and imagining the crazy antics that my mother said took place here," he said with a smile. "I didn't see those antics first-hand as I was raised Catholic, but my mother had plenty of stories about those holy-rollers